Orange County observer. [volume] (Hillsborough, N.C.) 1880-1918, 1887-06-11


on the shore, and watching the robins
dart in and out of the old button.baIl
trees, aud stirred the English mullins
with busy fingers, while her thoughts
went sorrowtulIy back to the grave undo,
the shadow Of the yew hedge, where she
had left the white liligs and the crushed
heap Of fragrant roses.
"Not even a sunLtam" she had said
rebelIiously, as she pushed back the
gray-green yew, breaking of the
branches and bending back the spurs in
a sort Of hot anger. lie shall have sun.
shine On his grave-to- o-day, at least.
And as Mary worked, the slow tears
trickled one by one down her check.
She had loved Hugh Derby very dear
! ~, but she had q coquettish clement
through her nature-likc most women,
unfortunately he had gone away to
the far South, believing that she did not
care for him.
And then had come the dreadful rail-
roa accident, and they had brought
back his body to be buried at Kings
Cross, because the railroad corporation
owned lot in The old churchyard, and
it was the most convenient place for the
intcrment Of the poor victims Of the
mishap.
There they lay, side by side, their
graves marked only by rude stone
crosses, inscribed simply by the name
and death date Of each sleeper.
And Mary felt that her heart was
broken and lfeIcss within her forever.
''Nonsenscr' Mrs 1orkc had said.
at won't last-nothing lasts Why,
had just such experience when ! was a
gal. There was Abe AlcxOn, as drove a
tin-peddlcr's wagon, the Hkclicst fellow
you ever set cyes-on. Me and him was
as good as engaged, but we had spat
and parted, and the very next week he
fell over Kings Cross Cliff Of q dark
! night and was killed. Bless you, | fell
as f the whole world had come to ar
end but here | be now married to Hiram
Yorkc, and as happy as most folks
Hiram amt perfection. to be sure but
Abe was pretty partial to old rye, too
or he'd nsEcr have drove his old horse
over Kids Cross Cliff instead o 'rount
it. And l reckon things arays happens
for the best, take one year with an
other" contcntcdly added the stout ma
tron, as she stirred a saucepanful o
onions with ponderous tin spoon, Will
Mary Folyott WINGED at the unpalatabi
parallel.
What was there in common bctwcel
handsome Hugh Derby and the luckles
hero who, once on time, pcddIcd ii
and drank too much2
The mullins were baked, the eggs frict
, to the exact shade of golden brown, an
. the breakfast for ''the gentleman il
Number Nineteen safely off her mn |,
when Mary Folyott stole down to tn
graveyard once more, with a basket 0
delicious white rhododcndrons, which
little colorcd girl had just brought he
from the woods
II done knowcd yo' loved white pc
sizes, missce," said Cora Anne, who wa
in Miss FoIyott's class at Sunday school
$50 done brung yo' desc yar"
1t was golden noontidc nov; the clu
tcrs Of sweet fern exhaling aromat
scents; the COWS Standing in the shade
of hazel copses; the ocean sparkling lik
q plain of blue diamonds
The task Of decorating the graves-
, for which Kings Cross usually turne
out with band, q covered wagon, an
, a concoursc OF struggling villagers
would not commence until three o'clocE
They shall see that he has not bee
forgotten" said Mary, as She toiled alon
7 under the bowery appl, branches, an
past the rippling music Of the littl
- brook. "Oh. Hugh-my IIugh-if onl
+, I could recall one short hour of I'll
, past"
She strewed the white rhod
. on the green sod, as the words escape
= invoIuutaIily from her lips.
"Oh, Hush-dear Hugh-if l cou
Q only speak to you once again" s.
uttered, aloud.
: Speak, then, dearest Maryl \
? Mary, if l were indeed dead and
! heaven, think l could not be happi
than am now"
The basket of rhod odendrons fell
: the grou+ed. Mary Folyott woud ha
: fallen, too, il she had not been caug
! IN pair Of strong arms.
+ Darling Mary, do not turn SO white
! pleaded her lover. II am not q hos
e no phantomi | am Hugh Derby's Sc
i, alive and well, come back to .ay my hea
et YOUR feet. and claim the love that